The Strange Affair of the Phantom's Beaver!
by WanderingTeen
Summary: COMPLETE: Previously The Canadian Phantom of the Opera... What would happen if the Phantom of the Opera had taken place in Canada? SO MANY STRANGE THINGS! A mix of PotO and Canadian steriotypes. MAY OFFEND SOME PEOPLE!
1. Chapter 1: Beavers and Music Do Not Mix!

**Chapter 1: Beavers and Music Do Not Mix!**

_Hello people! I'm WanderingTeen (or WT, or Teeny, or whatever else you may decide to call me), and I suddenly had this weird idea: what if PotO characters where Canadian?_

_Well, not even Canadian. Well, not real Canadian. But stereotypical Canadians with pet beavers and stuff?_

_I owe the idea to my dad, really, for insisting that the Phantom should wear the "entire goalie mask"._

_So, hopefully you appreciate my idea._

Featured Stereotypes: that Canadians are obsessed with hockey (okay, some are, but most are normal), that Canadians frequently associate with beavers

**Disclaimer: I do not own the stereotypes or PotO or the Lyrics to "The Good Old Hockey Game". But I am a Canadian and people have stereotyped me, so that's all that matters. AND I AM CANADIAN SO I AM ALOWED TO MOCK MYSELF!**

-

So… this all takes place in… AN OLD HOCKEY RINK! Or, this first scene does, at least. See, this is a culture club, the first and last of its kind, because it's got a bit of Canadian culture (a hockey rink) right next to some… real culture (an Opera House). They share a wall, which had a hole in it, which was how a certain someone was able to get from one place to another and haunt it and stuff.

There is a bunch of old people wearing various hockey jerseys as they look through the old crap. Suddenly, the auctioneer (who is wearing a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey) starts waving a music box with a beaver holding a hockey stick on it.

"LOOK WHAT I GOT!" He shouted.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Okay, so, uh… this is a music box, eh?" he said, pointing to the animal on the top, "With a beaver on it. So… who wants it?"

An old man in an Edmonton Oilers jersey put up his hand at the same time that an old lady with a Manitoba Moose jersey put up her hand. They glared at each other for a moment, but then they remembered: they're Canadian, and, as Canadians, it was their job to be peacekeepers.

So, the old woman said, "Hey, you can have it, eh?"

The old man beamed. "Thanks, eh!"

So, as the old man looked over his prize, the next item was unveiled.

"Okay, eh, this is an old broken light-up scoreboard, eh?" the auctioneer began, pointing to the florescent green hunk of crap. "Some say this is the very scoreboard from the story of: the Phantom of the Culture Club, eh? Some electrician people have fixed it up all right, so maybe, now that its fixed, we can frighten away the ghost of… a long time away, eh? So… plug her in!"

A strange wind whistled through the place (since it was in Canada and it's winter all the time in Canada) and everyone recalled the strange affair of… the Phantom… of the Culture Club…

-

Two new managers where coming to check out their new EBay purchase: a culture club/ hockey rink. One, Firmin, was a lover of culture (like, real culture, like music), while the other, Andre, was a lover of Hockey.

Of course, when they got to the Opera House, the entire place was in an uproar because Carlotta, their star, had lost her pet beaver and was sobbing in the arms of her boyfriend, Piangi.

"… And he was such a good little beaver, eh?" she screamed, "He only chewed on my favorite hockey stick once, eh? I loved little Bill with all my heart…"

Firmin and Andre stared over the scene in something close to horror. After all, they had a hockey game to get to in less than an hour, and they couldn't very well settle an uproar in less than an hour!

"… So, you're the new people, eh?" an elderly woman with a hockey stick with the blade cut off came towards them, using the shaft of the stick as a walking stick.

"… Yeah… did we come at a bad time?" Firmin asked.

"No, no, this happens about once a week." She informed them. "Carlotta's a little out of it, so she looses her beaver every once and a while." She held out hr free hand. "I'm Sue Giry, but eh… you can call me Sue."

"Mmm…" Andre was too busy watching a little blond dancer to pay any attention to them. "Who's the sexy blond?"

Sue glared at them. "That's my daughter."

"Ah… so… who's the sexy brunette, eh?"

"Christine. I also think of her as a daughter." She glared at Andre. "So don't even try or I'll body check you into the next province."

"Ah…"

"So… where's the little fruity non-hockey playing turd you where suppose to bring with you?" Sue asked.

"Raoul!" Firmin shouted, and an idiotic blond mental case of a man bounded in.

"OH MY GOD!" Raoul shouted, eyeing Christine, "I KNOW HER!"

"… I feel stalked…" Christine muttered, and she picked up a hockey stick as defense.

At that moment, three beavers with pink ribbons tied around their necks ran onto the scene.

"BILL!" Carlotta shouted. "TIM! PEE-WEE!" She threw her arms around the buck-toothed animals. "I THOUGH YOU WHERE GONE FOREVER… eh?"

"Okay then…" Firmin muttered.

"… I think I was promised that a hot lady would sing a song…" Andre said.

"Oh, yes!" Firmin jumped up and down. "I believe it's from the new Canadian Opera: 'Hockey: the Definition of a Nation'!"

Carlotta glanced up. "Song? Opera? … Eh?"

"OH MY GOD, NO!" Meg shouted. "SHE'S GOING TO SING, EH? RUN FOR THE HILLS!"

Carlotta took a deep breath and began to sing.

"_Hello out there, we're on the air_

It's Hockey night tonight 

_The tension grows, the whistle blows_

And the puck goes down the ice" 

Of course, the Diva's voice was nothing short of horrid, but, since everyone was Canadian and therefore interested in peacekeeping, no one said anything. Not even the strange shadow that no one noticed was standing above them.

"_The goalie jumps and the players bump_

_The fans all go insane_

_Someone roars, Bobby scores_

At the good old Hockey game" 

However, unbeknownst to everyone, including the strange shadow, the shadow's pet beaver was climbing over the ropes in the ceiling and was knowing crazily on one rope that held up an extremely large backdrop depicting screaming fans at a hockey game.

"_Oh! The good old Hockey game_

_Is the best game you can name_

_And the best game you can name_

Is the good old Hockey game!" 

Carlotta was dancing like an idiot by now.

"_Second period_

_Where players dash with skates a flash_

_The home team trails behind_

_But they grab the puck and go bursting up_

And they're down across the line," 

And before you could say polar bear, the backdrop was dropped onto the annoying diva's head.

"OH MY GOD!" Carlotta screamed. "THIS IS REALLY HEAVY! ET IT OFF ME, EH!"

"Shiznit…" muttered the shadow, and he collected his pet and slinked away from the scene below him.


	2. Chapter 2: How Very UnCanadian!

**Chapter 2: How Very Un-Canadian!**

Hello and thank you to all who reviewed! I'm so glad everyone liked this

Featured Stereotypes: CANADIANS NEVER FIGHT! Oh, and we love poutine (which is French fries and gravy and cheese. It's good… but we aren't obsessed with it!) and Maple syrup, and we're all loggers, and we all live in igloos.

**Disclaimer: Didn't I already cover this?**

-

"CARLOTTA CALM DOWN, IT'S NO BIG DEAL, EH? YOU'RE ALRIGHT!" Piangi shouted as his girlfriend was removed from under the backdrop. She shouted and kicked and fought and bit like crazy.

"How very un-Canadian of her…" Sue muttered to herself.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS, EH?" Carlotta shouted once she was free. "I'm giving up the music business. I'm going to fulfill my dream: to be the Goalie for the Canadian hockey team in the Olympics."

"Oh, the women's league?" Andre asked.

"Not even. I'll be goalie with the men, eh?" Carlotta picked up her beavers and made her way to the door. "I SHALL MAKE HISTORY!"

"… I guess I should follow her, eh?" Piangi asked.

Everyone nodded and watched as he went out the door.

"Well… we're screwed." Firmin muttered. "How about a round of beers, eh?"

"YEAH!" And the group went about passing beers around.

Of course, the mysterious shape in the shadows simply couldn't take this. Not only was his student going unnoticed, but no one was passing him any beer. So, he set about getting a letter down to Sue.

-

"Well, would you look at that…?" Sue muttered.

"What?" Meg asked, looking over her shoulder.

"It seems as though our Ghost has some instructions for the new managers…" she downed the rest of her beer can and then flattened it under her foot, "And he wants some beer…"

"Okay!" Christine tossed a can up into the rafters.

"Thanks, eh?" a sexy masculine voice was followed by the sound of the can being opened and guzzled.

"Ghost?" Firmin looked up. "Instructions?"

"WHAT'S WITH YOU TOSSING PERFECTLY GOOD BEER UP INTO THE CEILING, EH?" Andre shouted, glaring at Christine.

Christine whimpered and held up a hockey stick. Without warning, a hockey puck was dropped on Andre's head.

"That was very un-Canadian of him…" Firmin muttered. "Anyways, what does this Ghost want, eh?"

"Hm… just the usual… twenty thousand American dollars as his pay-"

"TWENTY THOUSAND AMERICAN DOLLARS?" A half-conscious Andre shouted.

"That's…" Firmin brought his brow down in concentration. "Well… it's more then twenty thousand dollars Canadian!"

"That could buy a lot of Maple syrup, eh?" Meg asked.

"Or poutine…" Christine agreed.

"Yum, poutine!" a voice from above shouted.

"I LOVE POUTINE!" Andre shouted.

"Well, with this rich guy as your patron, I'm sure you could pay even more." Sue said.

"I own a logging company!" Raoul giggled, "It's right near my multi-million dollar igloo estate, eh?"

Everyone rolled their eyes.

"So, how are we supposed to get money when our star is off being a goalie, eh?" Firmin asked.

"Christine can sing it!" Meg shouted, jumping up and down. "She's being taught by an awesome disembodied voice, eh?"

"AND HE LOVES POUTINE!" Christine put in.

And thus a chorus of "ehs" was heard throughout the opera house.

"Alright, alright." Firmin put up his hand. "Let's hear her sing, then."

Christine ran to the center stage and began to belt out her song.

"_Hello out there, we're on the air_

_It's Hockey night tonight_

_The tension grows, the whistle blows_

_And the puck goes down the ice_

_The goalie jumps and the players bump_

_The fans all go insane_

_Someone roars, Bobby scores_

At the good old Hockey game" 

And everyone loved her voice so much (and they weren't even being nice just because they where Canadian), so she was put in as the new star of the show!

-

"_Oh! The good old Hockey game_

_Is the best game you can name_

_And the best game you can name_

Is the good old Hockey game!" 

Raoul leaned out of his seat and watched Christine in rapt attention, waiting breathlessly for her gaze to fall his way. Unfortunately, someone dropped their pouting on his head and she wouldn't have recognized him anyways.

"_Second period_

_Where players dash with skates a flash_

_The home team trails behind_

But they grab the puck and go bursting up 

_And they're down across the line_

_They storm the crease like bumble bees_

_They travel like a burning flame_

_We see them slide the puck inside_

_It's a one-one hockey game."_

Since this song was like, the second national anthem, everyone knew the chorus and joined in.

"_Oh! The good old Hockey game_

_Is the best game you can name_

_And the best game you can name_

Is the good old Hockey game!" 

Andre and Firmin had to admit that Christine looked wonderful in her hockey puck costume. Though Andre's head still hurt from when one of those round black menaces fell on it…

"_Third period, last game of the playoffs too!_

_Oh take me where the hockey players_

_Face-off down the rink_

_And the Stanley Cup is all filled up_

_For the champs who win the drink_

_Now the final flick of a hockey stick_

_And on one gigantic screen_

_The puck is in - the home team wins_

_That good old hockey game."_

Everyone cheered Christine on as she sang the final lines,

"_Oh! The good old Hockey game_

_Is the best game you can name_

_And the best game you can name_

_Is the good old Hockey game!"_

"YAY CHRISTINE!" Raoul shouted.

Christine pretended not to see him and went straight for the dressing room. Sue was waiting for her, holding a beautiful wooden hockey stick with a black ribbon tied around the top.

"He thought you did awesome, eh?" Sue said, and she handed the stick over.

"Oh, this is the same make that Wayne Gretzky uses, eh!" Christine cried in glee and pressed the hockey stick to her cheek. "I'll cherish it forever!"

Sue nodded and walked off, secretly wishing that she had a Wayne Gretzky stick.

Christine sat in her room and was just taking the ribbon off her stick when Raoul burst in.

"Do you remember me?" he asked.

"… No?" Christine said hopefully.

"DAMMIT!" Raoul shouted, and he ran off.

Christine blinked and looked after him. _Wow,_ she thought to herself, _that was easy, eh?_

-

**Next chapter is where the Phantom comes in! **


	3. Chapter 3: The truth about the Phantom…

**Chapter 3: The truth about the Phantom…**

Hello people! I just want to say that I'm so, so happy to be getting so many reviews! And from Canadians, no less! I thought all the Canadians would come and hunt me down with an army of Mounties and cannons… but hey! If you like it, that's good.

Doesn't matter: I'm doing… okay. As good as can be expected, I guess. Luckily, I have good friends intent on keeping my mind on the good things. I think I'll pull through ;).

Jamea: STERIOTYPES ARE FUN! I love Maple syrup… crap, now I'm craving it… any who, thanks for the review!

Fuzzy-Pamplemousse: … w00t!

Just Plain Insane: American stereotypes? I don't know about that one… I asked a friend, and she said there was something about all Americans having guns or something stupid like that.

Featured Stereotypes: that Canadians are obsessed with hockey/ the play offs (this one was used before, but it's my favorite. Besides, my dad's crazy when the playoffs are on, so there you go…), and that Canadians are nothing but happy all the time

**Disclaimer: I'm just a poor Canadian girl with some strange ideas. Don't hurt me.**

-

So… since she was all alone, Christine got out a plastic hockey puck and started to practice her shooting, relishing the wonderful scraping noise her slap shot made with her new stick. Suddenly, a strange yet sexy voice could be heard in her room.

"So… who was the fruity guy with the poutine on his head, eh?" it asked (A/N: Poutine is French fries covered with cheese and gravy, just so you know).

"Ugh, that was Raoul. I knew him when I was little, and he thinks I suddenly like him or something, but I don't, and I'm trying to avoid him, eh?"

"Ah…" the voice was understanding. "So, do you like your hockey stick?"

"Oh, yes!" Christine held it up. "It's the perfect size for me, eh?"

"I'm glad you like it."

They where silent for a time, Christine practicing with her hockey stick and the voice seeming to be thinking something over.

"So," it finally asked, "Do you want to come over and… eh… watch the playoffs on my new big-screen T.V.?"

Christine gasped in excitement. "Really?"

"Really."

"THAT WOULD BE AWESOME, EH?"

"Okay, well, look into the mirror, eh? I'm going to do something ingenious!"

"Cool!"

Christine waited and, after a second or two, a mist filled her room. _Damn heater's broken again._ She thought, rubbing her arms as the frost set in.

"Mister voice person, it's getting kind of cold, eh?" she said, "Perhaps you could speed this up a bit?"

"Just a second!" after a few moments, the shape of a man appeared in the mirror. He was tall and sexy and wearing a Philadelphia Phantoms (such a team actually excists!) jersey and wearing half of an old-fashioned goalie mask (the white ones like from Friday 13th and stuff). Intrigued, Christine went to the mirror and found that it was open, and the strange man offered his hand.

Without realizing what she was going, Christine followed the man through a maze of tunnels until they reached a frozen lake. The man handed her a pair of skates and they glided across the lake, passing an old goalie net filled with a goalie stick, pads, and other gear.

"You play a lot of hockey down here, eh?" Christine asked.

The man shrugged. "Not really. I just collect old gear."

"Ah…"

Once they where across the ice, Christine saw the most beautiful thing in the world: a big screen T.V. with a hockey game playing on it. In front of it was a table and a comfy looking couch, and on the table where all sorts of delicious snacks.

"Oh, wow!" Christine exclaimed

The man grinned. "Welcome to me home, eh?"

Christine and the man sat side by side on the couch and opened a bag of cheetos. They cheered late into the night, sharing the most beautiful Canadian experience: their team had won. Christine fell asleep on the couch by the time the game was over, but the strange man didn't mind. He covered her with a blanket bearing the Philadelphia Phantom's emblem and left her to sleep off the effects of poutine and beer.

-

When Christine woke up, she heard someone playing the Good Old Hockey Game on the piano and went to investigate. She found the strange man from the night before playing the piano, but he didn't notice her.

Suddenly, she remembered his mask: why did he wear it? She was overcome by a totally un-Canadian feeling of unbridled curiosity and, while under it's intoxicating clutches, she did the most terrible thing possible.

She ran up to the man and snatched off his goalie mask.

The man had a quite un-Canadian shit fit and whirled around, shouting at her.

"HOW DARE YOU STEAL MY MASK, EH?" He shrieked. "NOT ONLY IS THAT RUDE, BUT IT IS JUST PLAIN UN-CANADIAN!"

Christine stared at him in fear, not because he was ugly (because the side that the mask had been covering was terribly deformed), but because she recognized his ugliness from tales told by the stage manager. This was, in fact, the Phantom of the country club!

As all of this ran through Christine's mind, the Phantom turned from her with tears in his eyes. "I guess you don't like me anymore because I'm ugly, eh?" he asked. "They wouldn't let me be in the NHL because of my face… and they wouldn't let me act, either." His voice shook. "And now you'll leave me, eh?"

Christine got to her feet and handed the mask back. "… Sorry about that, eh?" she murmured, blushing. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

The Phantom glanced at her, then snatched the mask and fixed it to his face. Once it was in place, he turned back to her and said, "You should be going back, eh? They'll be worried."

"Yeah." Christine admitted.

And so, in silence, the Phantom took her back home.

-

**So, good chapter? Review and let me know!**


	4. Chapter 4: But Who Will Sing…?

**Chapter 4: But Who Will Sing…?**

I can't believe how fast I'm actually updating this…

Featured Stereotypes: From now on, I'll trust you guys to figure it out.

**Disclaimer: I own… (goes through pockets) LOOK! A nickel! And there's a beaver on it!**

-

Firmin was flipping channels on the T.V. in the office he shared with Andre, searching for something about the playoffs. Instead, at every channel, there was a news story about Christine being kidnapped.

"You'd think there's be at least _one_ channel with hockey, eh?" he muttered to himself.

At that moment, Andre came in, looking appropriately pissed. "We're screwed."

Firmin looked away from the TV. "What makes you say that?"

Andre pointed to the TV, where pictures of Christine where splashed everywhere and an announcer was asking people to keep an eye out for her. "THAT!"

"But it's publicity, eh?" Firmin assured him.

"BUT SHE'S SCHEDULED TO SING OH CANADA NEXT DOOR!" Andre shouted.

"We'll find someone else." Firmin muttered, "And- allo, what's this?" he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket.

Andre pulled out a similar sheet of paper and read aloud. "_Hopefully Carlotta has a nice career in the NHL, because she _will not_ sing in this opera house ever again. Christine was the best in show, though the children dressed as hockey states could have done better."_

Firmin winced and read his own letter, _"By the way, Firmin, you still owe me two thousand American dollars."_

"… Why doesn't he just demand two thousand, two hundred and thirteen dollars and seventy eight Canadian dollars, eh?" Andre asked.

Before Firmin could answer, Raoul ran into the room, screaming at the top of his lungs, "OH MY GOD CHRISTINE IS GONE AND SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER ME!"

The managers stared at him, blinking their eyes in something akin to astonishment.

"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT A TRADGETY THIS IS?" The fop screamed.

"That she's been kidnapped…?" Andre asked.

"NO, THAT SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER ME!"

There was a deafening silence between the three men, interrupted only by the sound of a beaver (guess who's pet beaver) chewing the lags off of the desk behind them.

"And you sent me this note, didn't you?" Raoul growled. "You think it's funny, eh? WELL, IT'S NOT!"

Firmin snatched the paper from the raving lunatic's hands and scanned quickly over the text. "_Dear Raoul: I, the Phantom, have Christine. If you try to take her from me, I will piss on your igloo and turn it yellow."_

Raoul made a whimpering noise. "I hate yellow."

Andre rolled his eyes. "Well, we didn't write you that letter."

"WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA, EH?"

Before you could say, "don't eat the yellow snow", Carlotta had arrived, fully made up in all her goalie gear. With all of that protective padding all over her, it looked like she had gained about two hundred pounds.

"WHO SENT ME THIS LETTER?" She demanded, thrusting the paper in Andre's face.

"What happened to the Olympics…?" Andre asked.

Carlotta glared at him. "They had the _audacity _to tell me to join the women's team. IT'S AN OUTRAGE!" She screamed, and then turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "But, that's not what I'm here for. I'm here to talk about the letter that _you_ sent me, eh?"

Firmin grabbed the letter and read it aloud. "_Dear Carlotta: please don't come back to sing for us EVER AGAIN! Your voice reminds me of the time my beaver caught its tail in the door."_

Firmin and Andre sighed and, at the same time, said, "The Ghost."

"Not that I wanted to sing anymore," Carlotta muttered, "But I find that extremely offensive, eh?" she whirled on Raoul and, wrinkling her nose, added, "Almost as offensive as I find your breath."

Raoul didn't get it, obviously, because he gave Carlotta the blankest stare that anyone had ever seen. Luckily, the event was interrupted by Sue and Meg, who came with yet another letter.

"Well," Sue sighed, "Christine's back."

"YAY!" Raoul screamed, and he began to run from the group, "I'm going to go make her remember me!"

Meg grabbed him by the collar before he could get too far. "She doesn't want to see you, fop." She muttered. "Take a hint, eh?"

Raoul made a whimpering sound.

"So… will Christine be singing?" Andre asked.

Carlotta smacked him over the head. "SEE? You did send the letter." She began to sob. "You all hate my voice!"

"That's not true!" Firmin began in a vain attempt to comfort her, "You have a… lovely voice…"

"LIES!" Carlotta screamed.

"But-"

"LIES!"

"Carlotta, please-"

"LIES!"

Everyone was silent then, staring at Carlotta as she whimpered like a hot polar bear. After a few moments, Firmin patted her back in an awkward way. "Would you… like to sing tonight?" he mumbled.

"YES!" Carlotta crushed him in a hug. "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! I hated being a goalie. I kept getting hit by hockey pucks. I have bruises all over!" she blew her nose on his jersey. "Well, I'm off to get ready!"

Everyone left the room then, Firmin and Andre to see that Carlotta was taken care of, Raoul to fix his hair, and Sue to help Christine get ready. Only Meg was left, and she stood over the Manager's desk, glancing over all of the letters.

"This," she muttered, "Is bound to end badly…"

-

Carlotta sang Oh Canada (the Canadian national anthem, just in case some people don't know that) at the hockey game, much to the chagrin to everyone else within a two-mile radius. Everyone else working for the opera got free tickets, though, which was nice.

Nothing bad happened until the first period was over, and Timbits came skating onto the ice (Timbits are actually a doughnut you can but at _Tim Hortons_, but now hockey teams with players that are 5 and under are called Timbits, so… yeah. They usually play little games for all the fans at half time, even though most of them can't skate. It's cute to watch.). Carlotta was to announce the goals and whatnot and she stood to one end of the rink, shouting out the player's numbers as people scored goals.

"Awww, they're so cute, eh!" Christine shrieked, clapping her hands.

"I know!" Meg shouted.

As everyone watched, though, the lights suddenly went out. Timbits screamed in fright and skated blindly off of the ice and into their mother's arms. When the ice was completely bare of children, a single spotlight went to a man standing on the light up scoreboard.

A man wearing a Philadelphia Phantoms jersey and half of an old goalie mask.

"I told you," he shouted in a sexy, booming voice, "That _Christine_ was supposed to be singing from now on!"

"OH MY GOD!" Christine shouted, "IT'S _HIM!"_

"SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE WENCH!" Carlotta screamed back.

The Phantom was about to do something extremely clever when something started to chew on the wires connected to the scoreboard. The light went to it, and everyone could see a little beaver with a half mask matching that of his owners. Everyone "oh-ed" and "ah-ed", but no one noticed when the wires started to spark until there was a huge explosion. The beaver went flying through the air and fell onto Christine's lap, while the scoreboard fell from the ceiling and smashed through the ice.

"NO!" Christine shouted, standing and holding the squirming beaver in her arms. As the smoke cleared, she searched for the body of the strange man who had shared his home and his poutine with her. But, she had a startling discovery to make when the air had cleared entirely, and…

The man was gone.

-

**Alright, I trust you know the drill. Review for me. And, whoever reviews first gets either… (Looks through pockets again) a toonie and a loonie, _or_ poutine!**


	5. Chapter 5: RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

**Chapter 5: RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!**

Another chapter! Yay!

**Disclaimer: I have about fifty cents and a dead battery. That's all.**

-

Before Christine could get back to the Opera house and try to go through her mirror to see if her Phantom was all right, Raoul grabbed her and dragged both Christine and the Phantom Beaver out into the cold Canadian winter.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE WE DOING OUT IN THE COLD? IT'S FRICKIN FREEZING, EH?"

Raoul blinked at her. "I'm saving you?"

"I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU, YOU IDIOT!" Christine shouted.

Raoul whimpered. "I saved you! And your blue scarf with the Toronto Maple Leafs emblem on it, remember?"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Christine shouted.

"But there's a maniac in there!"

"HE GAVE ME POUTINE!" Christine growled. "He is one of the nicest people I've ever met… except for the time I stole his mask… but that was the only time!"

Raoul put his arms around her. "Oh, you poor delusional soul!" he cried. "I'll-"

Before he could finish by saying, "protect you", the Phantom Beaver turned and gave Raoul the nastiest form of purple nurple ever (purple nurple is when you pinch someone's nipples REALLY HARD!): purple nurple by beaver teeth.

Needless to say, Raoul shrieked like the devil had raped him and went running into the Hockey Rink.

Christine blinked, shrugged her shoulders, and went into the Opera House.

-

The Phantom of the Country Club groaned and threw himself onto his bed. His plan had totally backfired. He had fallen under the debris of a scoreboard; his beaver was missing, and Christine probably though he was an idiot now-

"Mister Phantom?" Christine's clear voice rang through his home.

Or not. The Phantom perked up and went running to the frozen lake, where Christine was standing, unsure of herself, and holding his sleeping beaver in her arms.

"PHANTOM BEAVER!" The phantom shouted happily, running and scooping his beloved pet from Christine's arms. The beaver opened an eye, glared at him, and then went back to sleep.

"He landed in my lap after the scoreboard fell." Christine explained.

"Ah…"

The two stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to say next. Finally, it was the Phantom who spoke up.

"So, eh…" he shrugged. "Do you want to come and have some hot chocolate and poutine?"

"Yes, please!" and the two ran off into the living room.

-

If Raoul had been determined before, he was mad with longing for Christine after the purple nurple incident. Therefore, he was determined to get Christine's attention at the playoff party.

Unfortunately, when he arrived, he found that Christine avoiding him like the plague. Every time he came her way, she darted through the crowd and hid.

Instead of dancing with Christine as he had hoped, Raoul ended up spending the evening with Andre and Firmin; both of whom had decided that the Phantom of the Country club was no longer with them…

Until…

-

"I'm sure glad that Phantom person is never coming back, eh?" Andre asked.

Firmin nodded. "I was worried he might come back, but-"

Suddenly a sexy man dressed all in red entered, carrying with him a binder of papers.

Raoul glared at Firmin. "You jinxed it."

"Hello, everyone." The Phantom growled, looking extremely sexy and threatening all at once. "You thought that I was gone, eh?"

"SHIZNIT!" Andre shouted.

The Phantom threw a puck in his general direction. "I have for you and Opera that _I_ have written." He went on, "And, a few instructions."

Carlotta groaned. "What is it now?"

"Well, first of all, you need to learn how to sing and act without giving people nosebleeds." The Phantom growled. Turning to Piangi, he added, "And you need to lay off the poutine."

"THAT'S NOT VERY NICE! … Eh?" Piangi huffed.

Turning to Andre and Firmin, the Phantom said, "You two- you need to learn that _I_ am the one in charge here. Not you. And you!" he whirled upon Raoul. "What is your problem, eh?"

Once again, the comment went unnoticed and Raoul just stared blankly at the Phantom.

The Phantom sighed and turned to Christine. He met her eyes and his face softened. "And you… you already know what to do."

"But aren't you going to be sexily threatening to me, too?" Christine asked.

"Alright." The Phantom grinned and, to humor her, he said, "You must do everything I say… OR ELSE!"

"AH!" Christine fainted into Meg's arms.

The Phantom turned and glared at everyone in turn. "YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!" With that, he vanished from sight.

Everyone was in a twitter after that, except for Raoul, who kept staring blankly at the spot in front of him. After a few moments, he perked up.

"OH MY GOD!" He screamed.

Everyone turned and stared at him.

"EVERYBODY, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" He shouted, "IT'S THE PHANTOM OF THE COUNTRY CLUB, EH?"

Everyone rolled their eyes at the idiot in their midst and went back to their conversations as Raoul went running around the building.

Sue sighed and followed after the fop, though she would rather stay with her friends instead. "I suppose I should make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble."

-

**You've read. Now review. And you'll get Tim Hortons coffee if you do…**


	6. Chapter 6: YOU WERE WATCHING ME SLEEP!

**Chapter 6: YOU WERE WATCHING ME SLEEP!**

You know the drill… READ IT!

Tsuyayaka: … I take it that means you liked it?

Just Plain Insane: I knew coffee and random humor was a bad mix…

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

-

"Raoul!" Sue chased after the stupid fop, throwing her hockey stick at him to trip him. Raoul fell to the ground, clutching his knee and screaming like a girl.

"THAT HURT!"

"What in the _hell_ are you doing, running around like a chicken with your head cut off, eh?" Sue shouted, slapping him upside the head.

"I must defeat the evil villain and save Christine from his clutches!" Raoul bellowed.

"… Villain?" Sue repeated.

"The Phantom." The fop re-iterated.

"But he's Canadian." Sue pointed out. "He can't be a villain…"

"BEHOLD!" Raoul pointed to his shoes.

"… What?"

"They have been chewed thoroughly." Raoul cried, ripping the shoe off and holding it in Sue's face. "This can only be the work of one madman… THE PHANTOM OF THE COUNTRY CLUB… eh?"

Sue snorted. "Those are beaver bites, you moron."

"Do you mean to tell me," Raoul asked, "That the Phantom was bitten by a rabid beaver and now he has beaver powers?"

"No," Sue said slowly, "I'm telling you that a regular old beaver has chewed on your shoes. Now… where in the world would you get an idea like… that stupid idea you just sprouted off at me?"

Raoul brought his Spiderman comic out.

"Dear god…"

"Soon, he'll have a theme song, and there will be no hope for us!" Raoul cried. "It will go like this: _Beaver man, beaver man, does whatever a beaver-"_

At that moment, Sue was forced to do a quite un-Canadian thing: she knocked Raoul on his ass unconscious.

"This can't end well."

-

At that moment, Christine was getting ready to go to her Father's gravesite. She did this about once a month and, while she was there, she talked to him like an imaginary friend. It was a little sad, really, but I suppose when you're a trusting Canadian girl and people are telling you jokes about the Angel of Hockey and whatnot, you'll talk to your dead father like an imaginary friend.

Little did Christine know that the Phantom was posing as the dogsledder that was to take her to her father's snowy grave. She went out and sat on the sled, handing the cloaked person some money, and said, "To my father's grave."

"… Could you be a little more specific?" the man asked, looking through the money, "I've never- OH, A LOONIE!"

Christine gave him the exact location of the graveyard, and off they went.

-

"Oh, my head…" Raoul muttered, rubbing his empty skull.

"Mom! He's awake!" Meg, who had been sitting near the fop, shouted.

Raoul screamed and pointed at her, "YOU WERE WATCHING ME SLEEP!"

Meg rolled her eyes. "I'm just making sure you don't choke to death on your own drool."

"YOU'RE A PERVERT WHO WAS WATCHING ME SLEEP! … Eh?"

Meg gritted her teeth. "Shut… up…"

Raoul got up and looked around. "Where's Christine?"

"Off visiting her father's grave." Meg muttered, "Why, what-"

Raoul went running off.

"… Shiznit…"

-

Raoul was feeling very flashy and heroic when he got on the pure white pony and rode it all the way to the cemetery without falling off once. Unfortunately, when he got there, he found that Christine was talking to her father's grave like an idiot.

"And then, we watched the playoffs together, and he shared his poutine with me, eh?" Christine clapped her hands. "He's really the nicest Phantom I ever met. I hope that stupid Raoul doesn't ruin this for me, because I want to get to know this Phantom better, and-"

"You really think I'm nice?" the Phantom walked out from behind a nearby mausoleum.

"Yes!" Christine shouted, not unhappy in the least to see him there.

"CHRISTINE!" Raoul shouted, pulling out his plastic sword, "GET AWAY FROM THAT… THAT CREATURE! I'm here to save you, eh?"

Christine turned and groaned. "Oh, god, not _him_ again!"

"Don't worry about it, eh?" The Phantom said, "I'll take care of this."

"Thanks, eh!" Christine said brightly, "You're my hero!"

The Phantom smiled, and then whistled and cried the three most frightening words that Raoul had ever heard.

"PHANTOM BEAVER ATTACK!"

And at that moment, the masked nemesis ran out from the trees and jumped on Raoul, giving him a string of the nastiest purple nurples that Raoul had ever felt. He screamed in agony, tears of pain running down his face.

"CHRISTINE, SAVE ME FROM THIS… THIS CREATURE!"

But, Christine was too busy chatting with the Phantom to notice the fop's pain. And then, something wonderful happened, something that will cause all phangirls all over the world to go, "Awww", even though this is just a random Canadian parody phic.

Christine gave the Phantom a hug.

The Phantom's face went through a series of expressions: surprise, joy, and, most importantly, love. He took Christine in his arms then and returned the hug while the fop struggled with the beaver from hell.

Then, while all the Phangirls where squealing in joy, the Phantom and Christine went to the dogsled, gave the dogs some treats, and then went off to the Opera House/ Hockey rink, leaving Raoul to struggle alone under the all-consuming powers od the Phantom Beaver.

-

**See the little review buttons? I believe you know how it works…**


	7. Chapter 7: This Phantom… doesn’t… like…

**Chapter 7: This Phantom… doesn't… like… HOCKEY!**

**Disclaimer: We've been over this six times already. Come on, no one is _this_ dense!**

Just Plain Insane: I'm Canadian, therefore I know all. I just sent my beaver army to spy on all my reviewers and study their habits as they read phanphiction, that's all.

Tsuyayaka: … the sad thing is, I would read that and review for every chapter.

-

"I," Said Raoul, after getting away from the rabid beaver from hell and making his way back to the Opera House/ Hockey rink, "Have a plan, eh?"

"If this involves Phantoms being bitten by rabid beavers again I'm not interested." Christine muttered, leaning close to the mirror to fix her make-up.

"NO!" Raoul shouted, "I now know the Phantom was never bitten by a rabid beaver. He is, in fact, a Beaver whisperer."

"… A what?" Christine asked, raising her eyebrows in a way that suggested that Raoul was a total idiot.

"A beaver whisperer." Raoul shifted his eyes from side to side as though he where checking to see if someone was listening in on their conversation.

"… Yeah…" Christine rolled her eyes. "So, what's your plan, eh?"

"… Plan?" Raoul echoed.

"… Your plan to 'defeat' the Phantom?"

"… I shall trap his pet beaver and use it as a bartering tool!" Raoul cackled in a rather lame way, and then added, "And once I'm done, I'll turn him into a hat."

"WHAT?" Christine shouted, "WHY WOULD YOU TURN IT INTO A HAT? It's cute, eh?"

"… I like hats…"

"Well, you do whatever you want." Christine muttered, leaving the dressing room, "But I'm going to act in this opera, so there."

"But Christine, wait, eh?" Raoul shouted, chasing after her as she ran outside and into the minus one hundred weather, "The plan is-"

Unfortunately, Raoul wasn't wearing a jacket and froze instantly. The Managers found him later and had to defrost him before the big premier of the Phantom's opera: _Don Juan, the Beaver_.

-

The entire stage was filled with people dressed as beavers, polar bears, and seals, except for Carlotta, who was dressed as a tree, much to her chagrin. The Phantom's opera was so wonderfully Canadian that everyone in Canada and some people from Alaska had come to see it. Fortunately, there are only, like, two hundred people in all of Canada, so everyone fitted well in the seats. Andre and Firmin where stressed terribly, but even they had to admit that they had never seen such a crowd before.

The storyline went like this: one beaver wanted to be a hockey star, but no one really believed in him except for his beaver-girlfriend. They where drawing towards the end of the play before things started to go slightly wrong. Piangi, who had been playing the hockey playing beaver, came out to the managers and said, "Someone took my costume, eh?"

"Nonsense." Firmin muttered, "You're acting on stage right now, eh?"

Piangi crossed his arms over his chest. "Do I look like I'm on stage?"

Andre glanced at him and then turned to see the beaver on stage (who was wearing a goalie mask). "Shiznit…"

Now the goalie mask beaver (who was the Phantom, and I'll be typing that now because "goalie mask beaver" and "hockey beaver" sound stupid, no matter how Canadian I am) and his girlfriend (Christine) where singing together as they skated along the ice on stage.

Unfortunately, just as the Phantom Beaver was holding the Christine Beaver in his arms and proclaiming his undying love for her, Raoul ran onto stage, shivering from being frozen.

"NO!" The fop shouted, "CHRISTINE, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM! LOOK, eh!" And, with that, the idiot fop tore off the Phantom's mask and the head part of his costume, revealing (dun, dun, dun!) his scarred face.

A few of the Americans ran screaming out of the stands, but the Canadians where too polite for that and they just sat there, smiling and waiting for the idiot to get off the stage so they could see the end of the play.

Raoul dragged his hand across his face in despair, and then came up with an idea. "Wait a moment! You know what? This Phantom…" he lowered his voice, shifting his eyes from side to side, "Doesn't… like… hockey…"

It was pandemonium throughout the opera house! Audience members clawed their way onto stage, trying to get at the Phantom. HOW DARE HE NOT LOVE HOCKEY? Meanwhile, as the Phantom and Christine where distracted, Raoul lured the Phantom's pet beaver into a cage and locked it up. The little creature squealed in fear, clawing at the bars (which where metal, so he couldn't chew his way out) in a mad attempt to get back to his beloved owner.

At that moment, the Phantom activated his trap door, enabling him to escape with Christine. The mob clawed at the floor in confusion for a few moments, trying to find the way to the Phantom's lair.

"Sue!" Raoul shouted, tugging the cage towards the old woman, "Where did they go?"

"I'm not telling you, you moron." Sue muttered.

"But… the Phantom lost his pet!" Raoul cried, "I need to return it to him."

"Oh, poor little Phantom Beaver!" Sue exclaimed, sticking her fingers through the bars to rub the little animal's silken ears, "Of course I'll take you to them!"

-

"Christine, I know we haven't known each other long," the Phantom said once they where back down in his lair, "But…" he brought out the most beautiful wedding dress, complete with snow-white hockey gear, "Will you marry me?"

"Oh, Mister Phantom!" Christine shouted, throwing her arms around him, "I'd love- wait!" she let go of him and went running around the lair. "Oh, no!"

"What?" the Phantom asked, a little peeved at avoidance of answering.

"Your pet beaver!" Christine grabbed its leash, "Raoul kidnapped it!"

"THAT STUPID FOP!" The Phantom thundered. "If I wasn't Canadian… I'd do something violent…"

"He's going to use it as a bartering chip! He wants to trade you, me for the beaver." Christine shook her head. "He's such a nuisance…"

"CHRISTINE!" Raoul's voice bounced off the walls as he ran onto the scene, the beaver clawing desperately at the bars of the cage, "I'm here to save you!"

Christine groaned. "Dear _god!"_

-

… **I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS! (That means review)**


	8. Chapter 8: Do I Smell a Plot Twist?

**Chapter 8: Do I Smell a Plot Twist?**

**Disclaimer: Say it with me… "WanderingTeen owns nothing"**

-

"_PHANTOM BEAVER!"_ The Phantom cried.

"Yes, I have your little friend." Raoul attempted an evil laugh and ended up sounding like a wounded chipmunk. "So, I propose a trade, if you ever want to see him again, eh? Christine for the Beaver."

Christine glared at Raoul. "Raoul, I have tried to tell you this before, but you're so stupid that I guess I'll have to just come out and say it: _I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU, YOU STUPID IDIOT!"_

Raoul blinked, and then turned to the Phantom. "See, she doesn't like you."

"SHE WAS REFFERING TO YOU!" The Phantom shouted.

"NO, SHE WAS REFFERING TO YOU!" Raoul shouted back.

"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT REFFERING MEANS!" Christine cried.

"… WELL I THINK I HAVE A PRETTY GOOD IDEA OF WHAT IT MEANS, SO THERE!" Raoul shouted. "NOW MAKE YOUR CHOICE!"

The Phantom sighed. "I can't make a choice! I love them both!"

Christine whirled to stare at him, her eyes shining, "You love me?"

The Phantom smiled sadly. "Isn't it obvious?"

"That's so sweet! And, now that I've had a moment to think, I think I have a plan." With that, Christine advanced on the fop, singing quietly, "Pitiful creature of stupidity, what kind of life have you known? God-"

"I've had a very nice life, actually." Raoul interrupted, "I'm rich, handsome, Canadian-"

Christine slapped him silent, and then went on, "God give me courage to show you, you are not alone…"

And then, though it disgusted her to do so, she kissed the fop!

"No!" the Phantom shouted.

Raoul pulled away first, a strange look in his eyes. Christine took the opportunity to get away from the fop and wipe the cherry lip-gloss from her lips.

"So," Raoul said, flipping his hair, "Then I guess that means you like me, eh?"

"Dear god, NO!" Christine shouted in exasperation, "That was all a ploy to get you to give the Phantom back his pet beaver and leave me here with him! I want nothing to do with you!"

"… But you think I'm attractive?" Raoul prompted.

"… Sorry, you aren't my type." Christine muttered.

"… BUT I'M HANDSOME!" Raoul shouted.

Christine sighed. "Look, just give me the beaver, all right?"

"NEVER!" Raoul held the cage out over the lake. "Now, let Christine go or I SHALL DROP THIS BEAVER INTO THE WATER! MUA, HA, HA!"

"Um, Raoul," the Phantom said in a very nice, Canadian way, "Before you do that, let me just point out-"

"I'LL DO IT! I'M CRAZY!" Raoul insisted.

"I've no doubt of that. It's just that-"

Raoul glared at him. "YOU'RE UNDERMINING ME! Well, we'll just see what happens when you're beaver is in a metal cage and he sinks and drowns!" With that, the fop dropped the cage…

Which landed safely on the solid ice of the lake, meaning that the beaver was save, even though it was a bit peeved.

"… The lake is frozen, eh?" The Phantom finished dryly.

Raoul gave a nervous giggle. "Oh, yes…" he glanced around and then saw a hockey stick. He grabbed it and started to smash it into the ice with all of his strength. "I WILL BREAK THROUGH TO THE OTHER SIDE, EH!" He shouted. "I WILL FREE CHRISTINE!"

"… Raoul?" Christine muttered.

"What?" he asked, still chopping at the ice.

"Um… I really don't want to go with you."

"LIES!" Raoul shouted.

"But-"

"LIES!"

"Raoul, please be reason-"

"LIES!" He panted, "That Phantom-person has you under a spell, AND I WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO SAVE YOU!"

"Hasn't it even occurred to you that maybe I like him?" Christine asked, exasperated.

The Phantom looked up. "Like me…?"

"You mean, as in you're Canadian and are therefore nice to everyone and, therefore, you like everyone?" Raoul asked.

"No, as in, like, as in, love." Christine muttered.

There was a moment of silence throughout the lair. Even the Phantom beaver stopped his terrified squeaking to stare at Christine.

"Well," Raoul finally said, breaking the silence, "That was unexpected, eh?"

"I was sure that there's be more of a struggle." The Phantom agreed.

Christine nodded. "You'd expect that, wouldn't you?"

"… BUT STILL, I SHALL SAVE YOU FROM THE CLUTCHES OF THIS EVIL BEAVER WHISPERER!" Raoul shouted.

The Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Beaver whisperer…?"

"Raoul thinks that you've been bitten by a radioactive beaver and thus have beaver powers." Christine sighed.

"NO!" Raoul screamed, dropping the hockey stick. "That was yesterday's theory. Today's theory is that he can somehow speak to the beavers!"

"… Or, perhaps I have a bond with this particular beaver because it is my beloved pet." The Phantom suggested.

"Perhaps… but a beaver whisperer sounds so much better!" Raoul exclaimed.

Before any more arguments could be made, the trio (and the beaver) heard the sounds of an angry mob approaching.

"MUA HA HA! Now you shall be vanquished by all of the Canadians in the world!" Raoul cackled.

"SHIZNIT!" The Phantom shouted. "Now what are we going to do?"

"Wait, wait…" Christine smiled brightly. "I think I have another idea."

The Phantom made a face. "Does it require kissing that?" He pointed to Raoul who was doing a crazy victory dance.

"No, no." she assured him, "This one is much better, trust me."

"I hope so." The Phantom said, watching the mob file into his home.

"Oh, I smell poutine!" One exclaimed.

"Nice TV!" Another cried.

"Well, this is a really nice place…"

"Was that a skating rink we just crossed?"

"PEOPLE, PAY ATTENTION!" Raoul shouted, "THIS MAN," He pointed at the Phantom, "HATES HOCKEY!"

"LET'S GET HIM, EH!" The Canadians shouted, and they ran at the Phantom.

"WAIT!" Christine interrupted. She held out a music box with the shape of a goalie beaver on it. She turned the key and the music to the Good Old Hockey Game filled the room.

"I LOVE THIS SONG!" A random Canadian shouted.

"Listen," Christine said, "The Phantom doesn't hate hockey. He loves it. He even wanted to be in the NHL… but they wouldn't help him because of that little face problem."

The problem was far from little, but the Canadians chimed in, saying, "Oh, there's nothing wrong with your face!" and, "Face problem? What face problem?"

At this time, Christine whirled and pointed at Raoul. "_He's_ the one who's never played hockey in his life. _He's_ the one who can't tell the penalty box from the net. And just _look_ at what he's done to that hockey stick!"

The Canadians all turned to see Raoul crouched over the ice with a shattered hockey stick, trying to scratch a hole to stick the beaver in. the men took off their hats.

"That poor hockey stick." Said one.

"How dare he?" said another.

One woman looked a little green as she clung to her husband, swaying as she murmured, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"So, my fellow Canadians," Christine said, "It's not the Phantom you should be after. IT'S THE FOP!"

"LET'S GET HIM!" Firmin shouted.

"I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!" Raoul cried.

"IN THE NAME OF HOCKEY!" Andre screamed.

"FOR HOCKEY!" the rest of the Canadians chorused, "EH!"

Christine and the Phantom watched in amazement as the entire mob chased Raoul out of the lair, leaving the caged beaver behind. Slowly, the Phantom knelt beside the cage and let the poor creature out. It scampered into his arms, rubbing its silky face against his chest.

"Awww!" Christine murmured, petting it on the head.

"So…" the Phantom cleared his throat, "What do we do now, eh?"

"… I hear they're looking for a new mascot in Philadelphia." Christine said, "And I'm sure you'd make a great Philadelphia Phantom."

"You think so?" The Phantom asked, leading her out of the lair.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I know so.

-

**Awww! I kind of like how this ended. Yes, this is the end. HUZZAH! **

**I have met the Philadelphia Phantom. His name is Phlex. He's a very nice Phantom.**

**REVIEW OR I'LL SEND MY BEAVER ARMY AFTER YOU! MUA HA HA HA!**


End file.
